Dear Remus
by ReluctantFangirl15
Summary: Harry misses getting letters from Sirius in his 6th year, and wishes Remus would write. So he decides to write to Remus first, but the words start pouring out and he can't control his thoughts.


Title: Dear Remus  
>Rating: T<br>Summary: Harry misses getting letters from Sirius in his 6th year, and wishes Remus would write. So he decides to write to Remus first, but the words start pouring out and he can't control his thoughts.

Warnings: It's angsty and sad.

Gift for Love1776.

After a few restless hours of half-sleep and nightmares in which he has to witness Sirius falling through the veil over and over again, Harry gives it up for a lost cause. He quietly slips down to the common room and flops down on the armchair closest to the fire, the flames of which are still flickering dimly in the darkness.

The stress of classes, Quidditch, and trying to figure out a way to get the real memory from Slughorn have been weighing heavily on his mind, and he's been having trouble sleeping. He doesn't want to bother Hermione and Ron with his problems; he knows he relies too much on them and they don't need to worry any more than they already do.

He misses his correspondence with Sirius, as infrequent as their letters were. He glances into the dying flames and if he concentrates hard enough, he can almost conjure up Sirius' face in the fireplace. He remembers the last conversation he had with Sirius through the flames, when he and Sirius and Remus discussed his father and Snape.

_Remus_.

Harry quickly glances around the common room and scrambles for the parchment that someone left behind on one of the tables. He locates a quill under a nearby chair and summons some ink from his dorm before settling back down in the armchair and starting to write.

_Dear Remus_, he starts off.

_Hi. How are you? I hope you're doing well. I know Dumbledore's got you on a mission for the Order. I hope you're safe._

_School is_, Harry pauses here, wanting to be honest. He crosses out the first two words. _I'm doing really well in potions this year. Professor Slughorn said my mum used to be really good at it too. Maybe I inherited something from her other than her eyes._

Harry pauses again, not sure how to continue. His previous correspondence with Remus has been scarce and he hasn't talked to him since the summer. He finds himself wishing he had taken advantage of the fact that Remus knew his parents just as well as Sirius had before now, instead of the reality of the situation in which Sirius is gone and Harry is feeling desperate to unload on someone, anyone. Before he realizes what is happening, his quill is scratching along his parchment and his mind is racing.

_Dear Remus,_

_Hi. How are you? I hope you're doing well. I know Dumbledore's got you on a mission for the Order. I hope you're safe._

_School is I'm doing really well in potions this year. Professor Slughorn said my mum used to be really good at it too. Maybe I inherited something from her other than her eyes._

_I've had trouble sleeping lately. Every time I fall asleep, all I can see is Sirius. It's killing me, Remus. Everyone says it wasn't my fault and that I couldn't have done anything to stop it but it was. It was my fault, Remus. I should have listened to Dumbledore and Snape! If I had, Sirius would still be here and I wouldn't dread falling asleep every night._

_Some nights it isn't Sirius, though. Some nights it's my mum and dad, but the only memory I have of them is from that night and the only thing I can hear is her screaming. Sometimes I'm jealous of you and Sirius for getting to spend so much more time with them than I got to._

_Remus, why does it have to be me? Why do I have to be the Chosen One? What if I can't do what I'm supposed to? If I can't defeat him then it means that they all died for nothing and it will all be my fault. It could have been anyone, down there in the Department of Mysteries. It could have been Ron or Hermione or Ginny. It could have been Neville or Luna. It could have been you. I can't stop any of you from fighting, but I can't bear the thought of anyone else dying for me. I can't imagine doing this alone, though, so doesn't that make me just as selfish as if I asked anyone to fight in the first place?_

_Dumbledore once told me that it could have been Neville. Neville, instead of me. As if it wouldn't have made a difference which one of us it was. And maybe it wouldn't, because I would fight next to Neville the same way he's fighting next to me but what if he's stronger than I am? What if it should be him? What if Neville could have somehow defeated him more easily than I can? What if he could have already accomplished it?_

_It's the 'what if's' that scare me more than anything else because I already know that if my own actions were different Sirius would still be alive. And Cedric Diggory would be too. It doesn't seem to matter whether I'm selfish or not, Remus, because people wind up dead anyway._

_I'm sorry for unloading on you like this. I know you have a lot going on. I'm sure you're busy with your mission for the Order. Anyway, stay safe._

_Harry_

Harry drops the quill and stares blankly at his parchment for a length of time that he has no knowledge of. When he finally rereads the letter, his eyes overflow with tears and he accidently knocks his bottle of ink off the table in his haste to be anywhere other than here.

He drops to his knees in front of the fireplace and, determined that no one will know about his inner fears and this moment of weakness, he thrusts the letter into the flames. Silently he watches as his words turn to ash and the edges of the parchment crumple in. Then he trudges up the steps to his dormitory and falls into bed feeling drained and exhausted, still dreading the visions he knows will assault him as soon as he closes his eyes.


End file.
